


Songbird

by hurtroad



Category: F. T. Island, K-pop, N.Flying (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Light-Hearted, M/M, Tragedy, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurtroad/pseuds/hurtroad
Summary: A group of boys find solace in each other and their language arts teacher.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. excellence

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking on my story! Your read means so much to me.
> 
> A few disclaimers before you begin reading:  
> This story contains underage smoking and underage drinking.  
> This story will have a death that some may find disturbing or triggering. I don't want to spoil too much, but please be aware before you continue reading. Nothing will be described in graphic detail but it will be a big part of the story towards the end.  
> This story is heavily based off the Peter Weir film, "Dead Poets Society." The plot and many dialogue quotes are based off the movie and all rights go to the creators. I have only added new characters and modified the premise of the story to suit the members of FTIsland and N.Flying.
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy!

In twenty years, no one would talk about that day. Life would carry on as if it never happened. Before that day, the boys sitting in the pews holding their unlit candles would turn to mist. Their souls and spirits would haunt the halls of Fisher Academy as their voices whispered into the ears of their forecomers. _Seize this day_.

The sound of the grand organ filled the room. The rustling of the eager students combined with the footsteps of the upperclassmen rang loud in the tall-ceiling space. Each held a long, golden pole which had the flags of the four pillars hanging among them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, newcoming boys. The light of knowledge ignites in you," the headmaster, Mr. Han, spoke with a hearty tone. He stood behind the podium like he owned the whole place. Except everyone knew that wasn't the case—they were there for God and His spirit only, and nothing else would be above Him. Not even the intimidating authority radiating from Mr. Han's very presence.

The candle trembled in his hands as the first one was ignited. Being surrounded by hundreds of people had scared Hweseung enough—and setting that small flame to the wax resting between his fingers would make everything so much more real. He'd have to spend the next several months waking up at the crack of dawn, stuck inside classrooms, wearing that tight and ugly uniform they were given the week before induction.

The boy sitting next to him slowly moved his candle towards Hweseungs. The wicks touch and set his candle aflame. The orange light grew brighter down the pew as everyone had the wax lit.

"Today, the same question beholds you as your forefathers," Mr. Han spoke with his daunting and deep voice. "Boys, what are the Four Pillars?"

All the boys stood at the same time. It was like a sea of clones, for each one had on the same uniform clothing, and all their voices echoed perfectly in unison.

"Tradition. Honor. Discipline. Excellence."

Once everyone sat again, Mr. Han continued his tangent. "Our graduating classes have only grown over the years. Not only in size—but in success. Last year, seventy-five percent of our graduating class would move on to join the Ivy League."

At that last statement, the whole space erupted in applause. Almost all of the parents in the room exchanged glances with their kids. Hweseung's father just gave him a small pat on the shoulder.

"Among us are those who will lead this world to prosperity. I congratulate you, boys, for your commencement. I also would like to welcome our new Writing teacher, mister Lee Hongki."

A man wearing the same long, black robe as the other administrators and teachers stood from a pew at the front of the room. He held a small smile upon his face as he nodded around the space. The room began to clap again, and Mr. Han nodded towards the new teacher.

The ceremony ended nearly after Mr. Han went over all his boring and yawn-inducing sermon. Everyone filed out of the hall and outside the campus. Parents hugged their sons as they shed tears. Some of the younger ones had full on tantrums, Hweseung overheard one kid in particular begging his mother not to leave him. Hweseung also heard many grumbles and whines, mostly along the lines of _I don't want to go here!_

The sunlight was blinding as Hweseung and his father started towards the dormitory. One of the other administrators greeted each body as they walked inside. Hweseung's heart hadn't calmed down since being in the ceremony hall. He habitually rubbed his palms against his pants.

"Stop doing that. You're going to ruin your uniform," his father scolded as they reached the assigned building. The line outside the door grew larger as more and more people said their farewells.

The pair arrived at the door. Hweseung's father shook the hand of the man greeting each person. "Good afternoon, sir. This is the infamous Hweseung."

"Welcome, Hweseung. Wonderful to see you again, Mr. Yoo," the two elders shook hands. "You have big shoes to fill, young man. Your brother was a force to be reckoned with."

Hweseung chuckled nervously. His father pulled out the paper that had his schedule and room number as they made their way up the stairs. The building was already booming with yelling and chatter of all the dwellers. Once they reached the third floor, they walked down the crowded hallway towards room 309. The door was already propped open, but was vacant, allowing Hweseung to claim the bed on the left. Two desks sat adjacent to the beds. Hweseung moved the textbooks sitting on the desk, inspecting the surface. His father placed his hands on his shoulders, softly massaging the tense muscles.

"You be good okay? Just be yourself, and study hard."

Hweseung exhaled deeply as his eyes met his father's. The elder's gaze told Hweseung, _I believe you._ Hweseung just wished he could believe in himself.

The two shared a final hug before Hweseung's father exited the room. Suddenly, the boy felt terrified being there all alone. He didn't know a single person, he didn't know where things were, he didn't know what was considered right and wrong in the vicinity of Fisher. For the first time and probably the last, Hweseung wished he had schoolwork to do. He wanted an excuse to skip out on all the banter between the others rather than stand there, awkward as ever, not knowing a single thing that was going on.

His case would be even more damaged when a tall, skinny boy walked into the room. He had blonde hair—a sight that was rather obscure around the preparatory—and a whole gaggle of guys following behind him, all of them seemingly talking at once.

"So _no,_ I did _not_ fail chemistry. I passed with flying fucking colors," said one of the boys as he pumped his fist in the air.

"Jaejin, quit it with those profane words." The blonde swung his briefcase onto the bed and began unloading his books. "Especially in front of the new kid. So you're Yoo Hweseung, huh?" the boy asked with a smile. He sat down on the windowsill next to the bed. One of the other boys shut the door behind them, and almost as if on cue, blondie pulled out a cigarette and a box of matches. Hweseung scrunched his nose at the tobacco smell that began to contaminate the room.

"Y-yeah."

"Nice to meet you," he said as he held out his hand for Hweseung to shake. "I'm Seunghyub."

Hweseung took Seunghyub's hand, shaking it with trembling fingers. The others started passing around the cigarette.

"I'm Jaehyun, by the way," one boy with long, curly, black hair greeted. He shook hands with Hweseung and gave him a big smile big enough for all four of the boys in the tiny space.

"Lee Jaejin," profanity-boy said as he took a big puff on the cigar. He had a smug smirk on his face that made Hweseung shudder.

"I'm Cha Hoon. Nice to meet you, Hweseung." Hoon was a lot less intimidating than the others. Hweseung knew just by the way he moved he genuinely thought it was _nice to meet him._

"Your brother is Hwecheol, right?" Seunghyub asked.

"Hwecheol, as in 1986 valedictorian?" Jaejin chimed in.

"Uh, yeah. He's my brother." Hweseung laughed nervously as he fidgeted with his fingernails, picking at the bumps and cuticles. Everyone in the room shared a painful moment of silence, the sound of each of the boys inhaling from the cigar the only sound to travel the small space. A light knock on the door broke the quiet moment and startled the boys. Jaejin stood and threw the cigar on the ground before stomping it into the floorboard.

The door opened, and behind it stood a tall man wearing a slick suit, kind of like the rest of the boys and their uniforms.

"Dad," Seunghyub half-questioned. "I—I thought you left."

"I've come to tell you that I've taken you out of your editorial. You have too many extracurriculars, and you need to focus on your studies first and foremost."

As if the first round wasn't enough, more awkward silence engulfed everyone in the room. It felt like eons before someone else started talking again.

"But, dad—"

"Boys, please excuse us."

Seunghyub and his father left the room, standing outside the doorframe.

"I will not let you dispute me in public, you understand?"

A lump formed in Seunghyub's throat as he struggled to refute.

"I—I wasn't—"

"It's for the best, Seunghyub. And if you trust me, you won't question it."

Seunghyub's expression of confusion turned into defeat. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."


	2. my fairy king

The sea of desks became occupied as the boys in the class filed in, choosing their spot they'd be stuck in the remainder of the year. Eager feet scuffled the wood flooring as everyone prepared for their first day of classes. The first day of class was also the start to everyone's misery, for the most part—the teachers at Fisher didn't care if you were sick or were exhausted from the gears in your brain spinning at top speed all day during lessons. You were expected to do every last question on every single assignment given, and with no exceptions.

The bell rang and echoed throughout the halls and the small rooms. The sound of moving bodies turned into the slamming of books on desks and the tapping of pencils.

Despite the sound of the bell, Fisher's newfound English teacher was nowhere in sight.

The boys sat in silence, only a few whispers filling the empty space. After what was a painful thirty seconds, Mr. Lee Hongki walked out of his office at the front of the room, whistling a eerily familiar tune as he made his way around the desks and out the door. All the eyes in the room were glued to the new teacher. Not a word was spoken, but just about everyone was thinking the same thing as they exchanged confused glances and sounded a few chuckles— _what is this man doing._

Mr. Lee turned around, eyes scanning over the area of the room.

"Those feet aren't going to walk themselves. Come on," he spoke while nodding his head out to the hallway.

The class filed out the room in an unorganized rush, scurrying to follow Mr. Lee as he strut down the corridor. They made their way all the way down to the commons area. The walls were decorated with shelves that held trophies and plaques and class photographs. Photographs of classes from the first year Fisher was opened, all the way up until the year previous. The familiar faces scattered about the frames looked over every person who walked down those halls, and now the gaggle of boys huddled around Mr. Lee.

"My fairy king can see things; he rules the air, and turns the tides. Who can tell me where this verse comes from?" Lee asked as he slowly paced around the group. Everyone stayed silent, just as they did inside the classroom. Mr. Lee looked around with a look of anticipation, waiting as if he expected someone to know what he was talking about.

"No one?" He weaved himself through the crowd and took a seat upon the bench amidst the space. He looked up at the faces of the confused students, unamused. "It's from _Queen's_ 'My Fairy King.' Inspired by the poem _The Pied Piper_ by Mr. Robert Browning.

"Now, you can call me Mr. Lee. Unless you are a bit more dauntless, feel free to call me your majestic Fairy King. Not that I expect you to, for I don't expect many of you to know much about music. But, suit yourselves."

The class burst into awkward laughter and chuckles at that statement until Lee interrupted the group once more.

"And before you speculate, yes, I did attend Fisher myself. Among these walls are some of my oldest, not-at-all dearest friends. Myself included."

More laughter. Lee stood from the bench as he pulled out the roll on his clipboard, scanning along the list of names. He stood with grand posture before the group.

"Mister Choi Minhwan. If you could read the first stanza of the poem on page two-hundred-three."

All eyes turned to the short, stocky boy standing at the front of the room. Minhwan looked around nervously before pulling out the hymnal and frantically opening to the assigned page.

"To the virgins to make much of time," Minhwan muttered with a questioning tone. Lee nodded in approval as the group chuckled quietly.

"I know, quite fitting, isn't it? Keep going," Lee instructed as the group quieted down again.

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may; Old time is still A flying; and this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying." Minhwan closed his hymnal as he looked up at Mr. Lee.

" _Gather ye rosebuds while ye may._ This phrase can be shortened to its Latin meaning—carpe diem. Anyone know what the meaning of _carpe diem_ is?"

There was a short moment of stillness until Kim Jaehyun raised his hand.

"Carpe diem. That's seize the day." Jaehyun smiled big as Lee nodded.

"Very good, Mr—"

"Jaehyun. Kim Jaehyun, sir."

Lee smiled small as he folded his clipboard under his arm. He looked among the group as if he were expecting some interruption, or some question to arise. But all that spoke was stillness.

"Gather ye roses while he may. Seize this day. Why would the author use this kind of language? Hmm?" asked Lee.

"Because he's in a hurry," Jaejin blurted out from the back of the group as he leaned against the wall. He smirked as he chuckled and crossed his arms.

"Incorrect, but thank you for your participation. It's really because, we are all just fertilizer for poppies, waiting to be put in the ground. Someday, boys, we will all end up beneath the ground we stand upon. Just like the men lining these walls."

Lee gestured for the group to walk forward towards the trophy shelves where the plaques and photos were displayed. Everyone scattered along the perimeter of the space and examined the images. Lee continued his tangent on living life to the fullest, his words festering in everyone's minds.

"Really _look_ at them. These boys watch you walk these halls every day. They were just like all of you—young...ambitious...full of hormones..."

Everyone began to laugh again. Lee made his way back and forth down the hall as he watched the boys admire the photographs in the frames. "But now, they are food for worms. And we will all become so as well. If you close your eyes and listen, you can hear their voices speak their legacy to all of you."

The boys hesitantly leaned towards the displays, some closing their eyes, others still scanning the images. Mr. Lee leaned in between Jaejin and Minhwan before whispering, "carpe diem. Seize the day."


End file.
